


Restless

by Schwoozie



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Intimacy, Mornings, One Shot, Routine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 21:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schwoozie/pseuds/Schwoozie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is where he expects her to be - on the roof, watching the sun rise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of 30 Days of Writing challenge.
> 
> prompt: restless

She is where he expects her to be - on the roof, watching the sun rise. He suspects it’s a habit she learned from him, to wait out the drummonds of her soul in high places. When he first met her, she would release herself through action, launching high kicks at tree trunks and running till her feet were raw - but she is older than she had been, and he is older too, and every time he hands her a brimming mug of coffee he imagines another hard-earned line fades away from both of them.

It is another way their jagged edges fit against each other - he can not sleep before a mission, and she can not sleep after. Before they met, it was a means of survival - Clint’s mission ended when all the players were dead, while Tasha’s ended when they all wished  _her_  dead, and often knew just where to find her. Clint had gone days without proper sleep, waiting for the deck to unfold - Tasha, he knew, had gone weeks, fleeing through the Eastern Bloc as SHEILD agents apprehended her marks one by one.

Thanks to their rhythms, this was no longer necessary, and Clint sleeps like a baby when the fighting is done because he knows Tasha will protect him, just as he guards her slumber on the eves of disaster. It makes these brief moments of rest, when their lives cross paths and he takes on her watch, seem surreal and apocalyptic, for even in the slums of Dubai or midtown Manhattan, these mornings are sacred.

It is another morning; her hair swims like fire in the sun. He settles against her, an intimate weight. She holds the coffee in steady hands. They swing their legs and watch the sky and together they spin a symphony.


End file.
